A/N: I know the last chapter was pretty short, so I decided to release this one early.
Luke had mostly been a pretty even-tempered man in his life. His rants and diatribes that he was so well known for weren't really considered true anger or annoyance. Tonight, however, Luke found himself in one of those rare moments where he felt his control slipping.
"Just let me know what's going on with her! I don't even have to see her! For crying out loud I am her fiancé!" The harsh overhead lighting highlighted the bags underneath his eyes and the pallor of his skin. His expression of defiance and anger intensified as he glared down at the nurse sitting behind the desk.
"I'm sorry sir," she stated simply for what seemed like the tenth time, "I've been given explicit instructions not to allow anyone information on Lorelai Gilmore until further notice." she breathed a sigh of relief as a man and woman stepped off of the elevator across the hall and began walking towards them with an air of importance and severity.
Luke glanced warily at the two suits and then back to the nurse. "So, what? You called security on me? You are having me kicked out because I want to know if my fiancée is going to live or die??
The man reached Luke and gently took hold of his arm. "Sir," he said gently, "would you please come with us to the conference room? There are some things we need to discuss with you."
Luke stared hard at the man, trying to decipher what it was that made him feel uneasy. It wasn't an entirely new feeling, hospitals in general made him feel jittery, but there was something about this man that filled him with loathing. He was the grayest man he had ever seen. His hair was gray, his suit was gray, his skin was gray, and even his eyes were gray. The woman that was with him had the same appearance, except that she was tan. Khaki suit, sandy brown eyes, sandy brown hair…for a moment, Luke wondered if whoever they worked for only hired people that were completely color coordinated.
"All right," he said hesitantly as he followed them to the conference room. He looked back to the nurse, who looked relieved to be rid of him.
"All right," the man sighed as he shut the door behind them, "Let us start with the introductions. I am Agent Mars, and this is my colleague Agent Reichheld. We're from Social Services." The both flashed their badges across his vision quickly before placing them in some sort of side pocket that officials always seem to have in their jackets. "And you, are Lucas Danes, correct?"
"You mean you aren't doctors?" Luke replied with an edge of panic in his voice, "You don't know anything about Lorelai's condition?"
"She's in critical condition, and I'm afraid we can't tell you anymore than that until this investigation is over."
"Critical condition?" Luke bellowed, "Well, some diagnosis that is. Thanks a lot! I could have told you she was in critical condition when I found her! Maybe you should slap a white coat on me and let me run around giving out medications! And what investigation? Just what the hell is going on here?"
Agent Mars tilted his head to the side as he considered Luke carefully. "You seem to be an irascible sort of man. It fit's the profile. When someone in Lorelai's condition is brought in, particularly if that person is a woman, there is usually a man involved in the situation. Unfortunately, it's the kind of world we live in. So tell me, Mr. Danes, just how much responsibility do you take for your fiancée being in this condition?"
Luke opened his mouth to speak, but found he had no words. After a moment, he hung his head and muttered, "I take full responsibility for the condition she is in. I hurt her feelings. We had a fight on the street in front of everyone. She disappeared. I waited for weeks and weeks in her front yard. Why didn't I go in the house? It could have ended so much faster that way… I didn't know." He looked up at the two strangers, his eyes glistening with tears. "It's all my fault."
This certainly was not the answer Agent Mars had been expecting. He had seen many men, hungry for control, beating their wives and locking them up for days and weeks on end. It was an unbearably cruel world we lived in, but it was his job to spread justice to these men. This case, this man, however, felt different somehow.
"Why didn't you go in the house?" Agent Reichheld asked him as she poured herself a cup of coffee on the bar near the window, "Surely after being engaged this long you had a key."
Luke instead chose to direct his answer to Agent Mars. "I don't know. At first I was so panicked that I didn't think to use the key. Then when Morey, that's the next door neighbor, told me that she had left, it didn't feel right going in the house with her gone. If you knew Lorelai, she takes her independence very seriously . That house is her sole possession. A symbol of independence from her family. It's a representation of the life that she and Rory built together. With her being mad at me like that, I couldn't violate that. I couldn't be found there sitting on the couch waiting for her in her sanctuary when she got home. Damnit! If only I hadn't had that sense of righteousness! I could have found her much sooner!" He clutched at his hair in agony.
Agent Reichheld studied this man for a moment. She too had seen many cases of domestic abuse, but there was something different about this one. He seemed to be genuinely concerned about Lorelai's well-being. If his story was true, then he also showed respect for both his fiancée and her property…as well as her relationship with her daughter. It was atypical for a man who was to blame for his counterpart's condition to actually admit that it was entirely his fault. Of course they would have to investigate, but Agent Reichheld had a feeling that this man was innocent.
"I know what you're both thinking," Luke said rubbing his hands over his eyes. "You're both thinking that I locked her up and starved her to death. Well, I didn't, but what I told you makes me just as much to blame."
"Is there anyone that can confirm your story?" Agent Mars asked.
"Sure. Lots of people. Just walk around Stars Hollow and ask anyone on the street about us. Many of the people that frequent the diner at night would have seen the fight in the street. I know that long haired freak was there, as well as some of my staff." He recalled. " All of my staff at the diner have been covering for me while I've been waiting in the yard. You can talk to Sookie at the Dragonfly and Miss Patty- she knows everything that goes on around town. Babbette and Morey know pretty much everything. They both saw me waiting out in her front yard for weeks. They brought me food. Almost everyone there has known me practically all of my life. They'll tell you that I would never hurt her on purpose."
"Okay, Mr. Danes, here's what we're going to do." Agent Mars straightened in his chair and looked directly at him, "We can't allow you access to Ms. Gilmore until it has been assessed that you are not a threat. You are to remain in the state of Connecticut while we conduct our investigations. Due to the sheer number of witnesses and the close proximity they have to each other, this investigation shouldn't take more than a day or two. If you have been sufficiently vouched for, you will be allowed to see Ms. Gilmore, with strict instructions to the nurses that they keep a close eye on you. Unfortunately, the final testimony can only be from Ms. Gilmore when she wakes up."
Luke nodded and handed Agent Mars the slip of paper with Rory's number written on it. "Here. This is Rory Gilmore's cell phone number, her daughter. She's the person closest in the world to Lorelai and the best witness you'll have. "
"Alright Mr. Danes. We'll let you know the results as soon as we're finished. "
"Please hurry. I know I don't deserve, well, anything when it comes to her, but if she doesn't make it… let me… I at least… you know, want to say goodbye." His voice broke on his final words.
The doors swung shut as he stared at the floor. It was a race against time now. He would eventually be there to watch her recover, or he would hopefully be there in time to watch her die.
